<!DOCTYPE html>
<html>
<head>
<meta charset="UTF-8">
<title>aurora borealis (where i found you, and stayed) by blifuys</title>
<style type="text/css">

body { background-color: #ffffff; }
.CI {
text-align:center;
margin-top:0px;
margin-bottom:0px;
padding:0px;
}
.center   {text-align: center;}
.cover    {text-align: center;}
.full     {width: 100%; }
.quarter  {width: 25%; }
.smcap    {font-variant: small-caps;}
.u        {text-decoration: underline;}
.bold     {font-weight: bold;}
</style>
</head>
<body>
<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/25673101">aurora borealis (where i found you, and stayed)</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/blifuys/pseuds/blifuys'>blifuys</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Fire Emblem: Fuukasetsugetsu | Fire Emblem: Three Houses</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Character Study (kind-of), F/M, Falling In Love, Post-Canon Fix-It, Stargazing</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-08-02</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-08-02</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-05 04:47:35</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>General Audiences</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>1,537</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/25673101</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/blifuys/pseuds/blifuys</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>Hilda and Dedue watch the sky on a cold night, and Dedue shares a piece of his home with his friend. </p><p> </p><p>  <i> and the lights will guide them home. </i></p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Hilda Valentine Goneril/Dedue Molinaro</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>3</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>17</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>aurora borealis (where i found you, and stayed)</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><ul class="associations">
      <li>For <a href="https://archiveofourown.org/users/audioerf/gifts">audioerf</a>.</li>



    </ul><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>my brainworms from <a href="https://twitter.com/blifuys/status/1289082762066931713?s=20">this curiouscat (pls click to open!)</a> i got has led to this </p><p>who's gonna wax poetic about dedue molinaro? me. he owns my hand and my heart.</p><p>edit 9th feb 2021: minor editing!</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>In the standard maps of Fodlan, North of the Tailtean Plains—past the mountains that break across the Sacred Gwenhwyvar—lies a peninsula. It is shaped like a flame—starting with a flared base and ending with a wispy tip. This peninsula is flanked by two tiny islands on its left, where a special kind of Noa fruit is said to grow.</p><p>There was never a need for Hilda to learn the map outside of the Leicester Alliance’s borders. The only areas on the misshapen diamond of land that mattered to her were the lush, humid forests of Goneril, as well as the mountainous range of Fodlan’s throat. It never occurred to her to look anywhere else. What need did she have to do so? She would never be required to wander outside of the Alliance.</p><p>If only she could turn back the clock, and wring herself dry for her ignorance.</p><p>After spending so many moons in the frigid north, she has become accustomed to the way the wind blows north, whistling in her ears as her thick woollen shawl wraps around her small frame. Faerghus is not a place for the warm-blooded Hilda. She misses the feel of the sun on her skin—of days where she thought she would melt under the Leicester heat, as her eyes squint to shield herself from the light. In Faerghus, the world is almost monotonous, and colour comes as a luxury in the frosted tundra of Northern Fodlan.</p><p>“I’m surprised that you have yet to adjust to the weather,” Dedue says on their trek up the mountain. It’s dark. Their path is illuminated by only a single oil lamp that he carries; its metal handle hanging off his wrist and gently bouncing along with his movement. “It has been several moons since your arrival.”</p><p>“Dedue,” Hilda whines, “That’s not fair—”</p><p>She hears Dedue chuckle, a sound so soft and whispery that she barely catches it in the strong, mountaintop winds. But she does, and it makes her cheeks tingle pink.</p><p>"Forgive me, I couldn't help myself but tease."</p><p>Dedue moves through the snowy paths like a seasoned veteran, almost as if the sheer cold has no effect on him. His body is fluid, yet sturdy and unshakeable--much like the white foam waves that crash against the dark cliffs further up north.</p><p>Hilda glances up at Dedue, having to strain her head to take a good look at him. It's almost jarring to see the difference. Where war permanently plastered a furrow into his brow, she now witnesses the way his face softens—lack of worry illuminated by the warm glow of the oil lamp. His shoulders slack without the tightness that carried him through six years of war, and Hilda thinks he looks like home. Comforting. Welcoming.</p><p>She wants to see more of this Dedue. The Dedue beyond the confines of war councils, beyond the battlefield where the banners of the Kingdom and Alliance billow—</p><p>Hilda huddles herself closer to him, gravitating towards the man that had—over the course of her expedition—slowly sealed himself into her heart; he’s taught her so much, that there is more to meets the eye.</p><p>And she only wishes she could have gotten to know him—all of his perfections and flaws—much earlier.</p><p>“I am sorry to ask you to come all the way up here with me,” Dedue says as they reach the end of the path. Without looking, Hilda can tell that they’ve reached their destination: the very top of the mountain that looks over the vast expanse of Faerghus, dark forests spreading through the horizon and beyond. “I thought it would be beneficial to have two people gather firewood.”</p><p>“No issue, Dedue, but you owe me now!” Hilda laughs, “Perhaps next time, you could carry me up!”</p><p>“Perhaps I might,” Dedue returns Hilda’s quip with a smile. It’s not magnetic or flirtatious in any sense, but it’s enough to evoke something inside of her heart; it’s getting harder and harder to break away from his gaze these days. Hilda catches glimpses of Dedue in the hours they spend together—the many sides of a beautiful gem becoming more obvious to her as they lay the foundations of the land together. He smiles, he laughs, he frowns and—he cries; and Hilda—</p><p>Hilda gravitates towards him more and more—without ever realising she’s fallen for him in the first place.</p><p>Her eyes finally break off from his face and redirect to something glowing above their heads. As if the world had been lit by the spectacular light show; gentle waves of blue and green spread across the sky like the brush strokes she’s seen Ignatz paint across his canvas. The lights move like waves, ebbing and flowing within each other. Hilda’s jaw drops, astonished that such beauty even <em>exists—</em></p><p>“Magnificent, isn’t it?” Dedue mutters. She realises that he’s gotten close, intimately so. She can feel the way heat radiates off him. As he watches the lights meld within each other, she notices that he does not hold any awe; he’s seen this plenty of times before, she realises, and she wonders if him bringing her here today was for this exact reason.  </p><p>“They’re beautiful, Dedue,” she breathes out, tracing the path of colour with her eyes, watching the stars glimmer and bathe in the hues. “How often does this happen?”</p><p>“Every winter, when the temperatures drop the coldest,” He replies, “There is a Duscur name for them, but the Fodlan call them the Northern Lights.”</p><p>“I think a textbook mentioned the Northen Lights,” Hilda pulls the shawl around her tighter as she trembles; her hands are chilled to the core, her teeth are chattering slightly, and she wonders if she should have bundled up more—</p><p>“Are you cold?” Dedue asks, but he’s already pulling his own shawl off, leaving him in his thick, furred clothing—gently laying the wolf-pelt around Hilda’s shoulders. His warmth lingers within the fibres, and it feels like summer on her shoulders.</p><p>“Sorry for interrupting,” Hilda mumbles, meeting Dedue’s gentle gaze in the night sky filled with Northen Lights, “I think they’re beautiful—the lights, I mean.”</p><p>“They are, aren’t they?” Dedue smiles again(—he seems to be doing that around Hilda a lot more, recently—)and he turns his gaze skyward once more. “Growing up, I was taught of their significance in my culture. These lights are thought of as torches—carried by spirits that guide the dead home.”</p><p>Dedue is wistful. He stares into the lights—looking for something while all words die on Hilda’s tongue. She had no idea of the significance these lights had for Dedue. The textbooks were scientific, something about the sun’s rays bouncing off the snow particles on their way down to earth. She cannot help but feel like she’s upset him somehow.  </p><p>“O-oh,” Hilda bites her lip. “I’m sorry, I don’t mean to bring up difficult things—“</p><p>“I’m not upset, if you are wondering.”</p><p>She blinks, shocked that somehow, Dedue’s managed to read her mind. Either that, or she’s gotten far too predictable lately.</p><p>“In fact, I’m very happy to see the lights tonight. I wanted you to see them too,“ Dedue’s eyes are glossy. He slides his hands into his pockets, before inhaling; then letting out a slow, foggy breath. “I like to think that my family’s up there. Watching over me. I’ve gone through a lot, since then. I miss them. But they tell me not to join them, just yet. I must restore our lands, rebuild Duscur; and only when I’ve honoured their memory, I can rest.”</p><p>“Dedue,” She chokes out his name. It is the only thing she can muster up the courage to say—the war had been tough on everyone, and yet, Dedue had gone through so much more. Pain, loss, bargaining, anger—Hilda cannot imagine how the last ten years have been for him. He had been so <em>lonely</em>. “<em>Dedue</em>.”</p><p>A promise solidifies on the tip of her tongue, and deep within her heart. A vow. A mission.</p><p>Gently, her cold hand meets the roughened skin of his palm. It’s perfect, the way his hand fits around hers—he is warm and secure; Hilda wants more than anything to be that guarantee for him.</p><p>That she’ll stay here.</p><p>That he won’t have to say goodbye again.</p><p>Her eyes well with tears, but through the blurriness, he smiles. She watches his lips curl, and his expression radiates gratitude and acceptance.</p><p>“I’ll be here with you until you return to them,” Hilda whispers, her hand squeezing his in the cold, cold night. “I promise.”</p><p>In the standard maps of Fodlan—North of the Tailtean Plains, past the mountains that break across the Sacred Gwenhwyvar—lies a peninsula. It is shaped like a flame—starting with a flared base and ending with a wispy tip. This peninsula is flanked by two tiny islands on its left, where a special kind of Noa fruit is said to grow.</p><p>Its name is Duscur—the land of smiles and fireplace-like warmth. It is home to the kindest people, the most beautiful of flowers, and the strongest soul Hilda has ever had the pleasure to meet.</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>(to the one i gifted this to, i hope this put a smile on ur face. thank u for always being great. i'm so thankful i get to share love for these two with you.)</p><p>  <a href="https://twitter.com/blifuys">my twitter!</a></p></blockquote></div></div>
</body>
</html>